


Aatrox

by Monstrrum



Series: League of Legends: The Darkin Lives [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Anger, Angst, Ascension, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Pain, Poetry, Reminiscing, Sad, Some Humor, Suicidal Thoughts, Talking To Dead People, most of the time anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27408388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstrrum/pseuds/Monstrrum
Summary: A collection of times Aatrox deals with his grief, memories, and those he meets and murders. Each chapter can be read on their own or any order, as they do not have a chronological order. Warnings are in the tags.
Relationships: Aatrox/Varus (League of Legends)
Series: League of Legends: The Darkin Lives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002438
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let Aatrox be free, I beg, Let me be free of this suffocating prison.

**I know not where I began, nor do I know if I will end.**

**Darkness.** All there is... is this pure darkness. Suffocating and endless. If he could, he would claw his way out of it, rip and tear, but he knows that only a mortal can take him out of this darkness. He depended on them for that. And he hated it. He, who was once a god, a god and a hero for his people, now dependent on those very traitors. Why, he once pondered, why did they seal and lock him away in such agony? It mattered not now, nor will it ever again. They will die under his hand should they come to him. He has tasted their pain once. But that body... it died and he returned to the blade. He should have known, when he felt the body ripple and shred itself of its fluids and flesh. He was a fool.

But no greater was the fool whose presence happened upon his prison. They breathe heavily and drool over themselves. Afraid of something as well. Something was after them. They needed a weapon. His heart beat in anticipation, and he felt them hold their breath. Only moments later did they wrap firm hands around him and hefted him up in a defensive stance. 

**A fool.**

Ravaging the body and tearing their soul asunder, severing their life essence from this form, he took control. The flesh bent to his demands and it was his own. But he needed more, as it would fall from his grasp if not. And luckily, the mortal was being followed by others, **many. Others.**

Shocked they were when gazing upon his stolen flesh. Afraid they were when he approached them, blade in hand, anger radiating from his heart. **Screaming, begging, they were when he tore them down and drank them in. Adding to his visage, still rotting yet slowing in its process.**

**Onward, he goes, slaughtering the many bodies that rushed towards their comrades' wails.**

* * *

**Darkness, though inhabiting flesh dripping with pseudo-ichor, writhing, and rotting, he still felt the darkness gnawing at the twisted flesh of his hand, his entire arm.**

**More,** he needed more flesh, grow stronger, larger, to combat that suffocating darkness and find a way to regain what he once was. His fear of returning to his prison, his hope for his old life, a life that is fleeing from his memory. He grasped desperately at the decaying memories, the others who stood by him.

What were their names again? Who were his brethren and lovers? **Who was Aatrox before a weapon?**

The darkness nips at his chest now, he had spent too long in such depressing thoughts, the flesh decays. And the battlefield on which he stands is devoid of life, no more flesh to reap. He would not last long if he stayed any longer. 

But where would he go? He knows not of this land. Only the cries of those he had stolen from does he know any locations. "Demacia, Noxus". They had begged for one last chance to see, but what were these places? Where were they, Aatrox wondered. Any direction would be better than staying idle to just lose what body he had. Wandering was all he could do, for now, find the mortals, any mortal. Rend their flesh, devour and take them. Maybe then he can return to himself.

He lifted his prison and held it begrudgingly by his side. North is the direction he must travel he decides. Dragging the dripping flesh grows difficult with every step but he must. He must. He must. 

**He must.**


	2. Demacia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In what plane of existence does this make any form of sense. Truly. This was to be his punishment all along, was it not?

**This was part of his eternal torment.**

It had to be. Aatrox, once a god, now a god killer and killer of those beneath them, is beside himself and some stone apparition. One of which that calls themselves... Galio. A remarkable amalgamation of stone and magicks, and it speaks! Aatrox had thought upon reaching this... **Demacia.** He would find none to combat him, then this creature was summoned from somewhere further within the large land to stop him from moving forward and slaughtering its brethren. 

That was... some months ago, he hates to admit. Now he finds himself returning to Demacia in hopes of slaughtering the peoples to consume them into himself to amass a greater form. And again he is greeted by the magicks of mages and then by none other than the stone golem Galio. Again they stand moments apart, a standstill. Galio is around the same size as Aatrox now, though... He silently revels in the fact he is still of greater height. A feeling he had almost forgotten. **Pride in his grotesque form. Only for a moment...**

Galio had seen him as a... comrade. Maybe because of their large statures, or perhaps it was that they both had bodies that were feared by the mortals. Though Galio is also a symbol of peace for them. 

Aatrox sighs as he stands face to face with the golem as he prattles on about humans and magicks and Demacia. It was not pleasant. But... It was also not... unpleasant. The golem is so happy to talk about these special birds he loved to watch from the battlefield some years ago. Aatrox believes he may have swatted those very birds Galio spoke of. He said not of that to the giant. He listened and sat while the other continued on, The Darkin beginning to tune it out in exchange for looking into the city where, no doubt, countless humans are shaking, wondering why their guardian is not crushing the intruder. **He wanted to crush them.**

"And what about you, friend?" He snapped back to Galio, seeing that he was being addressed. Having not heard the golems' most recent train of thought, he had no other answer than shrugging his shoulders. Galio looked none too complacent with that answer. "You could pretend to listen, y'know." 

"I only stopped moments ago, Golem. Repeat the last moments of your rambling if you wish me to respond attentively now." He, however, did not repeat himself and opted to sit near Aatrox. Some form of openness and trust is what he was trying to convey. **Foolish if Aatrox was motivated to see if he could absorb stone flesh.**

He sighs and turns to the golem to see him watching the horizon. Something ebbed at his thoughts.

"Galio" The golem turns to him "If you could stay awake without their magicks, would you still protect Demacia from me?"

"Huh, ya don't usually call me by my name," he chuckles and puts a stoney hand to his chin in thought "and yeah. I would still protect Demacia from you." 

Aatrox growls in frustration. "Why, pray tell, would you protect the very ones that hold your whole existence in their small fleshy hands?" His anger is building, he digs his talons into the ground to stop them from digging into the golems limbs. 

"Well. I like Demacia. Maybe I'd travel around with you, maybe I'd come back and see my human friends. I want people to live Aa-"

**"A** ND **I WANT THEM TO DIE, GALIO."**

The golem is silent for a moment before placing a hand on the rotting shoulder of the other creature. 

"I know, friend. And I'm sorry you do." 

He says nothing else as he turns and stares at the horizon once more. Aatrox repeats what was said in his head. The golem is _sorry._ Sorry for Aatrox. Sorry for his want of bloodshed and death. And he knows not what to say in response. So he stares with the creature. Though there is nothing special about the horizon. Nothing beautiful nor admirable.

Suddenly the golems' body releases a sound similar to that of a yawn, though more of an echo resounding off of canyon walls. It was odd but Aatrox assumes the mages' magicks are waning. His assumption is confirmed when he looks towards the city to see the lights flickering. 

"Ah... I'm sorry, friend. They get more tired with you showin' up more often." His body was stilling, falling back into a slumber. 

"You could crush them, Galio. Kill them, after forcing them to give you core to keep you awake."

And he sighs, with tiredness and something akin to sadness, "No, Aatrox. I'll protect them, and if I get a self workin' magical core while they live, even better." He turns to Aatrox with a smile on his face and tells him that he can not wait to see him again.

Aatrox growls and stands, as the golem falls into a slumber and standing erect in his grand and heroic position. 

Aatrox leaves him face down in the dirt when he turns his back on Demacia.


End file.
